


Love Can Read a Million Stories

by just_a_mess



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: #internalized homophobia, Divorce, F/F, F/M, Guilt, I'm really not sure where this is going, Librarian AU, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Slow Burn, Some angst, maybe smut, tagstobeupdated, whizzer's a librarian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-05 16:44:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11582103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_mess/pseuds/just_a_mess
Summary: Marvin hasn't been to a library in years. But, when Trina makes him take Jason to get him out of the house, Marvin finds a reason to break out that dusty library card. That reason being Whizzer Brown, the impossibly cute head librarian. I guess it's a meet cute? I'm awful at summaries. Eventually Mendel and the lesbians from next door will make their appearances. Basically similar plot to the musical, but library AU. I'm gonna stop talking now. Just trust me that my writing is better than this summary.





	1. The Librarian

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this list of underused meet cute/AUs and there was "Librarian" and I just went holy shit I'm writing this it's so cute! So, yeah, Whizzer's a librarian and Marvin thinks he's too smart to read books. Hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw this list of underused meet cute/AUs and there was "Librarian" and I just went holy shit I'm writing this it's so cute! So, yeah, Whizzer's a librarian and Marvin thinks he's too smart to read books. Hope you like it!

CLACK  
“Marvin, could you please take Jason out of here? I cannot concentrate on dinner with his infernal chess games”, Trina sighed, slamming her cookbook shut.

Marvin groaned inwardly as Jason kept clacking away. “And where do you suggest I take him?” he asked impatiently.

“Oh, I don’t know Marvin. The park? The library? Just so long as he’s out of this house until the chicken is ready.”

Marvin sighed and approached his son. “Jason? Jason.” Finally the kid looked up. “Let’s go to the library.”

“But-”

“The chessboard will still be here when we get back”, Marvin said, pulling Jason behind him.

“Go on Jason, you can get another book about robots or that Space Wars movie you like”, called Trina from the kitchen.

“It’s Star Wars” he muttered as his father shepherded him out the door.

 

Marvin tried to engage with his son on the way to the library, but he gave up after a few monosyllabic answers on Jason’s part. Marvin kept glancing at his son, staring out the window with headphones just an extra barrier between them. Marvin wasn’t sure when this wall had grown up between the two of them. Maybe when he started working later at the office. Maybe when he accidentally yelled at Trina with Jason in the room. Maybe when he came home after the kid’s bedtime a couple times a week. Who knows.

Finally they arrived at the library. Marvin glanced around as Jason rushed ahead. It seemed the community center had experienced a revival since he last visited: Marvin could hear sneakers squeaking and balls bouncing on a gym floor. Blushing at the image that rose unbidden is his head, he examined the many flyers decorating a bulletin board.

 

“Hey, Jason, where’s mom?”

Jason turned, smiling, toward the friendly librarian. “Hi, Mr. Brown! My dad actually brought me today; he’s in the hall.”

Jason watched Mr. Brown smile, his forehead creasing in puzzlement. “I’ve never met your father, have I?”

“No, he’s not really home that often. I don’t think he’s been here in years. Says he’s got all he needs to read in the newspapers.”

The librarian grimaced, clutching his chest in shock. “Quel tragique!” he exclaimed (quietly, it was a library after all). “We’ll just have to change his mind”, Whizzer continued, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

Jason laughed and wandered off to the sci-fi display, looking as far from the disconsolate boy in the car as possible. Mr. Brown was Jason’s favorite librarian; he always stopped what he was doing just to talk to Jason. No other adult did that, ever. Jason ran his hand along the titles, all of them old friends. He grabbed Journey to the Center of the Earth, his favorite.

 

Whizzer Brown watched Jason with a smile. He liked kids as much as the next guy, but something about this one’s brains and earnestness just stuck with Whizzer. He went back to sorting books with one eye on the door. Whizzer was curious about this mysterious father of Jason who never went to the library. How could he have a kid like Jason without going to the library?

Finally the doors opened, and a tired, frustrated looking man with Jason’s hair walked in. Whizzer couldn’t resist checking out his butt (it was a nice butt), then immediately scolded himself: he’s straight, and married, with a KID, for Christ’s sake.

“Hello, sir! I’m Whizzer Brown, head librarian. Can I help you with anything?” he called with his brightest smile.

The man whirled as if startled. Whizzer wasn’t surprised; people tended to forget about librarians.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing as a librarian?” the man blurted out, immediately looking bewildered and shocked at his words.

Whizzer blushed, but tried to play it off. “Oh you know. Just a starving artist trying to avoid the starving part.”

The man laughed.

“You never said your name?”  
“What kind of art?”  
They asked at the same time, and laughed and blushed some more.

“What kind of art?” asked Jason’s nameless father again.

“I’m a photographer”, said Whizzer, smiling a little wistfully. “I wish I could just focus on my camera a little more, but it’s a slow business outside of wedding season.”

The man fidgeted uncomfortably at the mention of marriages.

“You never told me your name”, said Whizzer, grinning at the man’s unease.

“Oh! I’m Marvin Feldman”, the man, Marvin, replied. “That kid, Jason, he’s mine.”

Whizzer laughed, of course he knew that already from speaking with Jason. “Really? Jason’s great. He’s always looking for a new book to read. Now, don’t let me stop you from combing the shelves.” His words had their intended effect, and soon enough, Marvin checked out a book for the first time in the better half of a decade. He glanced at Jason to see the kid watch in amazement before turning to Whizzer. Whizzer winked at him, but as the pair left his smile faded, thinking about Marvin.

Marvin and his nice ass and embarrassed half-smile. Marvin calling him a “pretty boy” and getting so flushed. It’s not like Whizzer never heard that before; that was practically his name at the bars. But just how straight was this father, this married man, this Trina’s husband, not-so-straight man?

And suddenly Whizzer was thinking of his ass again. He mentally beat up that part of his mind: Marvin’s straight(ish); he’s married; he’s Jason’s father.

But deep inside Whizzer, a regrettable interest began to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first fanfiction that I've actually written out ever, and I'd really appreciate feedback and comments and kudos! The whole shebang. Also, I'm terrible at plotting, so if anyone has suggestions I'd love to read them! Thanks for reading so far!!!


	2. A Punctual Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our tight-knit family has a (slightly) dysfunctional dinner together after the boys return from the library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this is late, I went to see Really Rosie (Anthony's new show) in NYC and got home after midnight so I just wanted to sleep! Thanks for all the kudos and comments! Keep them coming (I thrive on attention!)

With her men out of the house, Trina finished cooking dinner with ease. She hummed with a smile as she set the table and checked on her chicken. It’s not that she didn’t love her boys, but sometimes it was nice to have some peace.

The chicken still had 30 minutes in the oven, so Trina went to her room to dabble in her blushes and lipsticks. She hardly ever made herself up; who did she have to impress at home all day? A touch of blush, a barely noticeable swipe of lipstick, maybe some mascara, that was enough. But tonight Trina wanted to look pretty, not just presentable. Putting on her best makeup felt positively luxurious. When she finished, Trina smiled, really smiled, at her reflection for the first time in years. She looked radiant. Surely Marvin would be astounded.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The chicken’s timer shocked Trina out of her reverie; still, she practically floated downstairs and finished setting up dinner as her men arrived.

“Just in time”, she beamed as they came through the door. She tried not to let the hurt show when Marvin kissed her on the cheek like it was his job, and sat down to a nice family dinner.

 

Jason has always noticed too much. “I’m too smart for my own good”, he thought with a wry smile. So of course he noticed that his mom was wearing makeup, and of course he noticed his father not noticing, and he certainly registered the disappointment that flitted across his mother’s face.

“Mom, are you wearing makeup?”, he asked pointedly, but with as much childlike innocence as he could manage.

It seemed his remark was successful: Marvin looked at Trina in amazement. “Wow, Trina. You look so beautiful tonight.” Trina smiled in response, and the tension in their family’s shoulders relaxed.

When they were clearing the table, Jason suddenly lit up. “Oh, mom, you wouldn’t believe what dad did at the library.”

“He didn’t take out a book?’ she asked incredulously, turning to her blushing husband. “Marvin books-aren’t-important-enough-for-me-to-read Feldman? Marvin I-learn-everything-I-need-from-newspapers Feldman?”

“Yeah!”, Jason interjected. “I don’t know how Mr.Brown did it! He must be some kind of librarian ninja! If librarian-ing was an Olympic sport, Mr. Brown would take home the gold!”

By this point Marvin was bright red. “We were just talking and he apologized for keeping me from looking for books. I couldn’t exactly tell a librarian that I wasn’t looking for anything to read.” 

With that explanation, the family settled down in the living room for some quality time together. Quality time consisting of existing in the same room without whining or yelling or crying.

Jason still couldn’t believe Mr. Brown had gotten his dad to take out a book. Jason had nagged Marvin for years to no avail, and the librarian talked to him for 10 minutes, and suddenly he revived his library card. It didn’t make sense. But Jason felt like he should get some of the credit. After all, he was the one to enlist Mr. Brown in the quest to get Marvin to read. A self-satisfied smile slid onto his face.

 

Marvin suffered through the rest of the night (like he did most nights). It might have seemed a little worse than normal. Jason convinced him (whined for 20 minutes) to play (lose) a game of chess. Marvin figured he was trying to rub the whole book thing in. Honestly, my kid never talks to me, except to beat me in chess or to gloat about stupid library books.

Marvin finally escaped from his family at 10:00, when Trina forced Jason to bed. He flipped through the TV and found nothing. Marvin sighed and picked up his book. It looked incredibly boring. But Marvin remembered how the librarian, how Whizzer looked when he brought it to the checkout. Whizzer looked so triumphant: his eyes and smile were bright and cute and Marvin just wanted to take him home and keep him and kiss him and- 

Trina walked back into the room. Somehow, she didn’t seem to notice her husband’s previous thoughts. They didn’t talk; they never talked. They sat together in silence: Marvin definitely did not get absorbed in his book while Trina perused a magazine. Finally, they retired for the evening. Marvin got ready for bed quickly and pretended to be asleep as Trina came in. He ignored her tired sigh as she turned the lights out.

Finally Marvin could let himself think back to his too short time with Whizzer Brown at the library. He loved to wallow in self-pity. He had been so transfixed by the librarian’s chocolate eyes and winning smile that he had completely lost control. Not to mention those arms, that chest, in that tight button down. I can’t believe I called him pretty boy, Marvin moaned to himself. He could have maybe had a chance with the Whizzer (He doesn’t need to know I’m married), but surely his awkwardness had ruined everything. Maybe it’s for the best, he thought, after all, I’m not gay. I have Trina. And he’s probably not even gay, either.

But as he relaxed, his mind conjured up the image of the librarian in his triumph, the euphoric look on his face. His frankly majestic hair that Marvin just wanted to run his hands through and pull. He fell asleep with Whizzer’s smile emblazoned across his mind.  
That man, that pretty man, would haunt his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So..... guess who I met at Really Rosie: Anthony Rosenthal!!! It was really funny, I kind of met him by accident. Obviously I was hoping to meet him but he just happened to come out where I was waiting! I gave him a picture that he's going to put on his wall and we took a picture. Oh my god guys he is so nice and sweet! He said my drawing was amazing. He is legitimately a smol bean.


	3. The Two Sides of Whizzer Brown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's play a game called develop Whizzer as a character separate from Marvin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry this took forever! I've been busy and got major writer's block for like 2 weeks. Also this is lowkey just straight up character development but I like it. Hope you do to!

Whizzer Brown loves the dichotomy of his life. He loves the sharp divide in his activities, and attitudes, and attraction. Well, the attraction wasn’t different per se, just the opportunity to act on it. His life is divided by sunsets and sunrises, bookshelves and barstools. It’s night and day. Literally.

Every morning, Whizzer gets up from his small, but soft bed and runs a bath to wash away the remnants of his night’s activities- the smell, the mussed hair, the soreness. After a good soak and 3 separate hair products, he’ll make some honey-sweetened tea and head to the library with his thermos.

Whizzer always arrives at the library a half an hour before it opened to raise the blinds and admire the golden morning light shining in the windows. Even though he can’t waste film on something so frivolous, Whizzer couldn’t help but see photographs in the light beams and well-worn books.

At 9:00, Whizzer unlocks the main doors and puts on his most friendly grin. Patrons wander in and out- Whizzer counts a win whenever he makes a tired or sad person smile. His coworkers file in throughout the morning, sorting and shelving books while Whizzer mans the desk.

The days pass by in a blur of books and people and “how may I help you?”s. Whizzer has mastered the art of polite rejections; most of the women have learned to stop asking, finally. The men are more subtle: a furtive, appreciative glance, quickly averted eyes, a light blush. Whizzer just ignores them.

Somehow it feels harder.

There are only two things Whizzer hates about the day. He hates that he can’t be himself during the day, can’t flirt and bicker with handsome men, can’t tell the women they are most certainly not his type. And, he hates that most of his friends- his co workers, the patrons who love him- would be utterly disgusted if they knew he’s gay. He has to smile as people whine about _those abominations and their sick perversions_. Only the straight and semi-closeted get paychecks.

But Whizzer still loves his job. He loves when people come in raving about their last read and asking for a recommendation. He loves when a kid’s eyes light up as they read, and Whizzer can just tell that the story grabbed them and will never let go; it’s an indescribable feeling. He hates to admit he that he could never capture that look on camera. And those kids come back, and they get lost in books just like Whizzer always did. They escape their problems, their families, their heart aches, just like Whizzer always did. Whizzer might not love all children, but he sure likes the ones he can see himself in. He loves the stillness as the sun burns golden red through the windows and he’s alone again with his books.

The end of the day always sneaks up on Whizzer. As he locks up, he slips on his sunglasses, and the transformation begins.

 

Once he gets back to his little apartment, Whizzer stops and breathes for a moment, just a short time to really feel like himself. Then, he throws on a leather jacket and unbuttons his shirt a little to let his alter-ego surface before heading out on the town.

Now, if Whizzer’s days are golden light and pastel shirts, his nights are pounding strobes and leather jackets.

At 9:00, Whizzer pushes into the (gay, duh) bar, and puts on his most cocky smirk. Men wander in and out as he sips a cheap beer until someone inevitably buys him something better. Whizzer counts a win whenever he makes a handsome man stare.

Whizzer watches men dance and flirt, and his fingers itch for a camera, like always. The dim lights create shadows on mens’ faces, turning them into half-seen Adonises who vanish into obscurity. Of course, even if he had the film, he couldn’t photograph these men in their secret pleasures. He couldn’t take away the anonymity that keeps them safe.

One nice thing about the bars is that Whizzer does something different every night. Sometimes he dances, grinding against other men until someone catches his fancy, or, more often, his wrist, and he knows who’s going to be his friend tonight. Sometimes someone picks him up at the bar. Some men come back to him a couple times a month, some men vanish into the blur of the clubs after one friendship. Whizzer doesn’t care. Whizzer doesn’t ask for names til at least the second friendship.

There are only two things Whizzer hates about the night. He hates when men try to give him money. Sure, buy him a drink to get in his pants, whatever, but Whizzer is not some common whore. And he _really_ hates when some man tries to fucking monopolize him, to hold him down. Whizzer will do what he wants, and screw who he wants, when he wants to. He’s not something to be bought and held and cherished. He’s something to be borrowed and returned and missed.

But Whizzer loves the thrill of seeing lust in some guy’s eyes as they take him to a dark corner or bathroom or house. He loves how men rake their eyes over his body as he dances. He loves how they stare when he licks alcohol off his lips. He loves their muffled groans and gasps. He loves when they pull his hair and he knows he did something right. He loves their hands everywhere, when suddenly he’s the one muffling groans.

At the end of the night, Whizzer collapses onto his tiny bed, reveling in how luxurious his sheets feel against his bare skin. He falls asleep with a content smile, thinking of a world where his two sides could coexist in plain view of the world, without judgement, without hate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really like parallelism. Anyway, some new character(s) will be appearing in coming chapters (!!!!!!), and poor Whizzer is gonna realize his life isn't quite as divided as he thinks/likes.  
> First comes fluff, then comes angst, then comes plot when the writer tanks. (I tried to rhyme angst. I'm sorry)  
> If you liked this, please leave a comment or kudos! Tell me what you think of how I characterized Whizzer.  
> I thrive on attention!


	4. Marvin at the Psychiatrist Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin goes to the psychiatrist and finds a new ~solution~ for his crush on a certain librarian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally you get to meet Mendel in all his adorableness! I'm sorry this is late! School just started so my posting might get even more erratic than it already is. In hindsight, I wish I had written a couple chapters, then started posting, but whatever. At least I have chapters planned (even if the "plan" is me writing "chapter 6- lesbians")

Jason tore through books like a hurricane. By the end of the weekend, he had finished all four of the books he took out on Thursday night. Trina could tell he was getting impatient: the volume of his chess games had a proportional relationship with his need for new books, and god knows he was getting loud. But Trina had housework to do, and Marvin was at the psychiatrist, so Jason would just have to wait.

 

“Hello Marvin, welcome back. How’s your wife?” Dr. Weisenbachfield asked, as Marvin strode into the office as if he owned the place.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Mendel. I have a lot to deal with right now” Marvin grumbled, sitting and throwing his legs across the couch vexedly.

“Ah. More so than usual?” the psychiatrist questioned as he took out his notepad.

Marvin glared. “Don’t condescend.” But then he sighed. “Yes. More than usual”.

“Hm. Let’s try to get to the bottom of this extra baggage, shall we?”

“It all began when I went to the library”, started Marvin.

“LIBRARY”, wrote Mendel.

“Trina made me take Jason on Thursday. I only took him so she would stop nagging and he would stop slamming his pawns on the chessboard. It drives me crazy, ya know. He just sits at that chessboard every day and he never wants to play with me because I’m ‘too easy’, can you believe that, and-”

“Marvin!” Mendel shouted. Finally the man stopped, breathing heavily. “Let’s get back to the library. I take it something happened?”

Marvin nodded miserably. “I took out a book.” At Mendel’s puzzled look he elaborated: “I haven’t been to the library in years. I haven’t checked out a book in more years.  
And I took one out, all because of a _librarian_ ”. Incredulousness was plain on his face.

Mendel underlined his “LIBRARY” and drew a line to “LIBRARIAN”. “And what was so special about this librarian?”

“He”- Mendel made a note- “well, he’s very handsome. When I met him- I was caught off guard, don’t misunderstand- I, um, called him a ‘pretty boy’. He just- he’s so tall, and looks like a model. And his smile- dear god his smile.”

Luckily for Mendel, Marvin didn’t hear his snort at the “pretty boy” comment. “You’ve mentioned men you find attractive before. What makes this librarian different?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only met him once, but I see his body in that tight button down every time I close my eyes. He’s like an itch I can’t scratch” said Marvin, despairingly, but almost like he was glad to be suffering so.

“So get a back scratcher”, said Mendel, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

Marvin eyebrows drew together as his face crinkled in a confused frown. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

Mendel sighed. “It’s simple really. Go to the library. Talk to the boy. Take Jason, it could be a father-son weekly outing or something.”

“Won’t getting to know Whizzer make this- this- crush or whatever it is, won’t it make it worse?” Marvin worried.

This time Mendel _really_ snorted. “His name is _Whizzer_? What kind of a name is that?”

“Could you stop mocking me and just tell me exactly how going back to the library will help?”

“Sorry, sorry. You just need to whet your appetite” Mendel replied. “For Whizzer”. He fought to keep his laughter from spilling out unprofessionally.

“I guess”, said Marvin. “You know, I barely know this guy, and I already know he’s so different from Trina. She’s so… passive. She’s passive. I yell, she cries, and nothing happens. Talking to him was like a game to win. And he was so smug when I checked out that book- I saw him wink at Jason- like I was some kind of challenge. I wish I could see how mean he could be outside of the library.”

Mendel scribbled “UNHEALTHY IDEAS OF ROMANCE” and “MEAN” (which he circled 3 times). He was really running out of room between the dinosaurs and flowers he doodled.

Clearing his throat, he prompted Marvin: “Let’s return to your wife, shall we? How are you and Trina?”

“Same as ever. We don’t talk alone. I haven’t fought with her recently; I think she’s given up on our more intimate ‘pleasures’. That always made me sick, literally, not figuratively. Or maybe both literally and figuratively.”

“But you can imagine such… ‘pleasures’ with this librarian? With no nausea?”

“Yes.”

“Does it thrill you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t feel guilt?”

“No?”

“You’re not worried about your actions hurting Trina?’

“No. She doesn’t know, and she won’t know, anything about this. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone! Not you, and certainly not Trina!”

Mendel stopped him. “Marvin, this relationship, marriage, it’s not good for you or for Trina. Have you put any thought into getting a divorce?”

“Are you kidding?” Marvin scoffed. “I’m not going to destroy my family like that.”

 

At dinner that night, Marvin screwed his eyes shut and blurted “I want to take Jason to the library every week”.

The quiet sounds of a peaceful family dinner cut off like Marvin had pressed a mute button. He opened his eyes to his wife and son staring at him in shock. _Ugh, it’s not that dramatic. This isn’t a soap opera._

Marvin chuckled weakly. “Hey, come on now. I just want to spend some time with my son. What’s so surprising about that?”

They still looked bemused. Perhaps because he had never made a specific effort to bond with Jason before. But he hadn’t needed to before- Jason would seek him out when he was younger. Marvin shifted uncomfortably, realizing that he had relied on his son’s hero-worship of him to form their relationship; once that ended their father-son connection just... faded. Oh, well. Just another thing to take to Mendel.

Finally Trina recovered. “That sounds like a great idea, honey”, she said, surprise still evident in her voice.

“Yeah”, said Marvin, relaxing, “Mendel suggested it as a way to bond with Jason some more. So what do you say, buddy?”

“Sounds great, dad”. Jason’s brows were still creased in puzzlement, but he sounded at least a little pleased.

Relieved, Marvin returned to his food, knowing he would see Whizzer again, and soon.

 

Jason knew that something was up when his father suddenly decided to take an interest in his life. And by taking him to the library! Jason couldn’t even remember the last time his dad had gone in a library before last week. Maybe he wanted to be friends with Whizzer? Jason dismissed that idea as soon as it popped into his head. Since when did his dad have friends? He had co workers and polite acquaintances. And his psychiatrist, but Jason wasn’t sure that counted. He resolved to wait and see what would happen on Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again- I'm super sorry this is late! Please leave kudos and comment! (Comments are so so motivating- the more I get the more I'll write). ALSO! I just made a tumblr with my friend so we can rant about musicals together so you can yell at me there. We are broadway-bitchess. (I don't know how to link things I'm sorry).

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfiction that I've actually written out ever, and I'd really appreciate feedback and comments and kudos! The whole shebang. Also, I'm terrible at plotting, so if anyone has suggestions I'd love to read them! Thanks for reading so far!!!


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